


(Hot) (D)og On A St(ick)

by alexenglish



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:12:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5541299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexenglish/pseuds/alexenglish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles really likes one of the elves that works at the 'North Pole'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Hot) (D)og On A St(ick)

**Author's Note:**

> for llydiastiles! Merry Christmas, Darcy!

“You’re staring again,” Isaac says, throwing a corn dog stick at Stiles’ head. Stiles jerks out of his daze, flailing his arms and batting at the air. His elbows are sore from leaning on the counter, shoulders tight. It’s not his fault that they’re slow, he’s  _bored_ , and they have a perfect view of the North Pole.

The ‘North Pole’ which is the fancy Christmas set up in the middle of the food court. It’s standard fare: a couple of towering christmas trees, giant boxes wrapped up like presents, a scatter of stuffed animals, piles and piles of cotton mounded up to look like snow. In the middle is a giant throne where Santa sits, merrily shouting at the children and smiling wide. His cheeks must hurt. But that’s not Stiles’ main concern, not really.

Stiles’ thing is the  _elves_. Well, one elf. Not that the other elves aren’t fantastic, they are, but this  _one_. He’s got the brightest elf smile imaginable, and Stiles is crushing so hard he’s conditioned to get butterflies when he sees pointed shoes. The kids adore this elf. He’s the elf they see right before they get to Santa. It’s obvious he’s stationed there for a reason, he’s the best kid-wrangler elf there is. Stiles has seen him gentle screaming toddlers, and kiss chubby baby cheeks. It’s  _grossly_ adorable.

Stiles isn’t a grinch, but he isn’t the embodiment of Christmas spirit like this particular elf is, and he definitely doesn’t like kids enough to hold their sticky hands while they wait to climb onto Saint Nick’s lap. This elf does it  _merrily_.

Which is the point of being an elf, but  _still_.

Something about it makes Stiles’ heart grow three sizes. He automatically starts humming Christmas carols. It’s that infectious Christmas spirit giving Stiles a Christmas crush on a mall elf.

Stiles has only seen the elf up close a couple of times in passing. The one time they made eye contact, Stiles had to fight to keep his breath because the elf’s eyes were so warm; dark brown and almond shaped, framed by thick lashes. And he’s got this  _mouth_  on him.

Okay, so Stiles has been doing a lot of staring.

Between the eyes and the mouth and the standard issue green leggings that all the elves wear – no one should be surprised. He tries not to be too much a creep, but it’s hard when the elf has thighs that won’t quit and a smile to rival the star on top of the tree.

“Shut up,” Stiles says, belatedly. Isaac just cocks a judgemental eyebrow at him.

“Why haven’t you ask him out yet? Didn’t you say last week that you’re soulmates because you both have dumb hats?”

Stiles scowls and adjusts his hat. Technically, Isaac has a dumb hat too, but Stiles isn’t worried about _Isaac’s_ hat making an impression. The hot dog stand they work at has an eccentric uniform, which Stiles is aware that he looks ridiculous in. It takes a certain kind of person to pull off thick horizontal stripes and a red top hat. Stiles is not that person.

The elf has a cute elf hat with a bell on the end. Ridiculous, but expected. Sometimes the bell falls in his face and he gives an exasperated laugh as he pushes it out of the way. Sometimes, it falls back into his face again.

“You’re overly invested,” Isaac reminds him, poking his side. Stiles didn’t even  _say_   _anything_.

“Do I get a look on my face when I’m thinking about it?” Stiles asks. Isaac always seems to know.

“You’re staring again,” Isaac says with a shrug. “Which is probably why he’s coming over here.”

Stiles jerks so hard his elbows crash down on the countertop, sending a sharp pain into his hand. He reels away and Isaac comes up behind him, taking a stand at the register while Stiles stands off to the side, only partially concealed by the lemonade dispensers. He glares at the side of Isaac’s head and tries  _not_  to look at the pair of elves ordering.

It’s hard, because the elf is right  _there_  and Stiles is weak. Stiles totally looks at him, and finds that he’s looking back. Instead of ducking behind the counter like he wants to, Stiles gives an awkward wave. The elf’s eyes widen and he waves back, stumbling forward when the elf in front of him yanks on his sleeve. 

“Are you ordering, or gawking?” she asks. She’s petite, strawberry blonde hair falling in waves down her back. They’re both in full elf attire, all green and red and jingle bells aplenty. It’s cute from afar, it’s even better up close. There are fake points on their ears.

“Ordering,” the elf says, raising his hands in surrender, eyes darting back to Stiles for a second before they dart away again. His cheeks are pink. “I’ll just have a hot dick.”

“ _What_?” Stiles blurts, unable to help himself.

“Hot  _dog_  on a  _stick_ ,” the elf mutters, while the redhead starts cackling. His flush gets deeper, eyes  _firmly_  fixed to the register. “Oh my god, shut up, Lydia.”

“Hot dick, Scott,” Lydia elf says, and Stiles chest compresses once with how hard his heart pounds when he hears the name.

 _Scott_.

He’s so hopeless.

“Hot dog on a stick,” Scott says again, taking out his wallet. Stiles is too busy staring at Scott hands - small and soft looking, really  _nice_. Isaac kicks him and jerks his head, clearing out the daze. Right. Cooking hot dogs, and making orders. Stiles can do that, he can. It’s practically autopilot at this point.

He slides their order across the counter. If he handed Scott his order and their hands brushed, Stiles would probably drop it. He can’t imagine  _touching_.

Before they walk away, Stiles manages to choke out a, “bye Scott.”

Scott turns, eyes wide. A pleased grin comes across his face, as his eyes dart down to read Stiles’ nametag. “Bye, Stiles!”

Elf Lydia hits him as they walk away, but Scott laughs, stealing a look back at Stiles. Stiles gives another wave, tries to ignore how his heart leaps when Scott bites his lip and looks away. His cheeks are still pink.

“Get his number,” Isaac says, pushing at Stiles’ back like he’s going to shove him over the counter. “Get his number, or I will murder you.”

“What?”

“Jump over the counter -”

“This isn’t a  _rom com_ , what the hell -”

“That was flirty! The UST was so high I could barely breathe. Just go get his damn number. If you don’t you’re going to regret it.”

Stiles knows that he’s right, and Isaac knows he knows Isaac is right - if the smug look on his face is anything to go by. If Stiles doesn’t do something this very instant, he’ll  _think_ about it and dwell on it and chicken out at any further opportunity. Then, he’ll regret everything.

It’s almost Christmas, soon Santa and the North Pole and most importantly, the  _elves_  will disappear forever.

He doesn’t hesitate any longer, just vaults over the counter. His hat goes flying, but he could care less. His sneakers squeak as he slides behind Scott, trying to wrestle his heartbeat under control. It takes a minute, Scott and Lydia are already turning, staring at him. Lydia looks amused, but there’s definitely confusion on Scott’s face.

“Scott…”

“Hey?” Scott asks, eyebrows crinkling in a frown as Stiles gasps and tries to breathe. The surprise athletics are not doing him any favors, but really, with the uniform and the fact that he works at a hot dog stand, it’s not like the red face and awkward panting can  _hurt_  his chances.

“Scott, number?” Stiles chokes out, standing and sliding out his phone, wiggling it in Scott’s direction. He gulps, tries again. “Can I have your number, I mean?”

Scott blinks at him.

“For texting purposes,” Stiles clarifies, starting to feel stupid. Honestly, what good comes from listening to Isaac of all people? He should have stay behind the counter, then he won’t have the embarrassment  _or_  the nasty stitch in his side.

Lydia’s already sliding away with their food, even as Scott is silent, staring. One less person to witness his abject humiliation is probably a good thing, if he’s being honest.

“I want…”

“To text me?” Scott asks, finally taking Stiles’ phone. Their hands brush. Stiles drops his phone, as expected, but Scott has it and him, gently cradling his hand. It’s all very much.

“Yeah, that,” Stiles says, blinking at their hands. Scott’s palm is warm, his hand is so soft. They’re holding hands, and Scott doesn’t let go until after he’s put his phone number in and handed Stiles is phone back. Before he drops Stiles’ hand, he gives a gentle squeeze, smiling at Stiles.

“Okay, I, uh,” he says, eyes darting back to the North Pole. “I should go, but you should text me. We can get coffee.”

“Coffee?” Stiles asks, blinking.

“I think you’re cute,” Scott says, with one of his blinding grins that makes Stiles’ insides melt. “I don’t really want to go through the whole ‘are we friends or does he want more’ thing. So, I figured we could get the date out of the way, figure things out from there.”

“I, yeah,” Stiles says, blindsided by the bluntness, but not objecting to it in the least. This is better than any meet-cute fantasy his mind could produce. “Yeah, that sounds great. A date. I would love to.”

“I figured,” Scott says, with a wink. He turns to leave, but turns back, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ cheek as an afterthought. It’s soft, just a quick press of lips, but it leaves Stiles’ heart pounding as Scott laughs and walks away, bell on his hat bouncing merrily.

“Holy shit,” Stiles says, weakly, fumbling with his phone in order to send a text. The name Scott put in makes Stiles snort, happy warmth blooming in his chest. 

**To: Scotty McCall (Mall Elf)  
** _I can’t wait to see you out of that elf costume._

**To: Scotty McCall (Mall Elf)  
** _I mean, in normal clothes. Because I’ve only seen you in costume._

**To: Scotty McCall (Mall Elf)  
** _I’m going to shut up now._

**To: Scotty McCall (Mall Elf)  
** _It’s Stiles. By the way. (Hot Dick provider)_

**To: Scotty McCall (Mall Elf)  
** _(get it, because of what you said? okay. shutting up.)_

This is going to go well.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](queerlyalex.tumblr.com) <3


End file.
